My slumber was broken by the rapid pounding of a hoof on my bedside. I could feel my brain bouncing around inside my head even as I buried it deeper into my pillow.
"Wakey wakey, sleepy head! Time for school!" Fleetfoot sang, her smooth voice finally pulling my head out from under my pillow.
I sat up and stretched all my limbs, each one seemingly sore in a different place from the workout Fleetfoot made me do yesterday. I rubbed the sand out of my eyes before brushing the foul taste out of my mouth.
I stared back at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, the novelty of magnetic hooves never ceasing to amaze me. After spitting out the minty paste, I splashed water over my face to wash the remnants of last night's slumber off my face. The cold water made me shiver but roused my mind back to a primarily aware state. I dried myself off, taking one last look in the mirror.
Today was the first day of school, and while I absolutely dreaded school of any form on Earth, I had the minuscule hope that maybe a bunch of colored horse things would make my day less drab and life-sucking. I had to admit that the prospect of seeing Sunny piqued my interest. Kids are always brutally honest whether you like it or not, making her companionship very useful.
With that, the day was off. The walk to school was largely uneventful, though Fleetfoot made it well known how much nicer it would be if we could fly because I refused to get on her back and fall to my doom. But we eventually arrived at the school, kids of various ages and colors all saying their goodbyes to their parents before walking up the main steps and through the front doors.
"So this is where we split, kiddo. Hope you have a kick a-, cool day!"
"Thanks, see you later," I responded as I began walking towards the doors myself after giving her a wave.
As I redirected my attention to the environment around me, I noticed a few stares from other kids and parents. While I didn't do anything, to my knowledge, I just assumed they were just unfamiliar since I was a new student joining in the middle of the year.
I entered the double doors and was greeted by a snow-white pegasus holding a clipboard in her wing. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose as her eyes scanned the paper before she looked up, a warm smile greeting me.
"Hello there, mister, you must be," she scanned the paper until she reached what she was looking for, "Evan Tokarski, yes?"
"Yes, that would be me," I answered.
"Good, good. I can't wait for you to meet all of your new classmates." She motioned with her clipboard for me to follow. "We better get a move on; there are lots of new friends for you to make." She said before asking one of the other staff present to cover her for a moment.
We walked down the main corridor and around the wonderbolt statue. I had seen that statue when I first came to the school to get enrolled, but the awe and wonder that multiple kids had on their faces as they stared at the figure didn't escape my attention. It wasn't like this was a new installation or anything; these children seemed to have a genuine admiration for the wonderbolts. While I knew Fleetfoot was famous, its true scale had only recently begun to make itself apparent to me. I began to realize that Fleetfoot was a big card in my deck that I could play however I wanted.
I turned my attention back to the hallway, which wasn't too crowded, though we had to walk a bit closer to each other. Each wall was covered in various drawings and projects made by the children, with a door breaking the pattern every dozen feet or so. I took in the environment, the pictures, the multicolored floor, and the tack boards, all similar to what I remembered in grade school. It was so unbelievably identical, just like everything else in this world. It was as if you took Earth and plopped in a few talking horses.
The clop of her hooves slowed to a stop as we approached what was Mr. Mango's room, as indicated by the shiny gold placard next to the door.
"So, this is Mr. Mango's room. He will be your teacher for the year." She said as she turned to face me. "He is very nice, and I'm sure you'll grow to love him. But try to remember where we are because this is where you will be coming every morning. Just don't be afraid to ask somepony for help if you ever get lost, okay?"
“Okay, thank you,” I said, trying to memorize the layout of the hallway. While I wouldn't mind asking someone for directions, my worst fear as a child was walking into the wrong classroom only to get laughed into the next century.
"No problem, sweetie. Mr. Mango expects you, so just give him a holler, and he'll be happy to help." She finished and gave a small wave with her free wing before turning around and walking back down the hallway, her snow-white fur gradually disappearing in the mess of colors.
I turned my attention back to the propped door. My mind swam with worry as to what lay beyond. Children, while sometimes enjoyable, really could suck the life out of you if you're not careful. I also had no real social interaction with a child of similar age to mine other than Sunny. The thought of doing something that would socially out me was at the forefront of my mind. While I didn't really care about what any of them did, I needed them to help me find my place in this alien world.
I shook off my worries before walking into the classroom. It was a pale blue with a white tiled ceiling. The front of the room had a large chalkboard covered in drawings, along with a few other items. There were about twenty desks in pairs of two filling the room. I spotted Mr. Mango's desk in the back of the room, the aforementioned scribbling something on the various papers across his desk.
I walked across the room, noting that most kids hung around in groups of three or four. None seemed to notice me, their talking and laughter drowning out everything other than themselves.
I turned my attention back to where Mr. Mango sat before me, still deep in concentration.
“Uhm, hello?"
"Oh!" he snapped to attention before releasing his tension, "Why hello there, mister, you must be the new student I've heard so much about!"
“Yeah, that's me."
"Well, I'm thrilled to finally meet you. If you haven't heard, I'm Mr. Mango, and I'll be your teacher for the rest of the year." He said, holding his hoof out toward me.
I gave him a light hoof bump electing a smile from him. I had learned that you do hoof bumps and not shakes a few days prior when I met one of Fleetfoot's friends and tried to shake her hoof, causing them to ask me what I was doing. I asked, and they told me that you just bump it because, apparently, hoof shakes are a sign of affection, and I'd rather not proclaim my love toward my teacher on the first day of school.
"But first," he said, stopping me in my tracks, "since we are starting with math today, I need to know you're up to a second-grade level."
"I think I am," I said; as long as the math here wasn't some wonky pony math, I knew I'd be fine. I'm also assuming that second graders here aren't learning integral calculus or something.
"Let's just try a few questions real quick. What's twenty minus seven?"
“Thirteen"
"How about four times three?"
“Twelve."
"And six divided by two?"
“Three."
"Good, I think you'll be alright today. Class will begin shortly. Your seat is located just in the back." He pointed to the desk right in front of his own. I wasn't shocked that the desks near the teacher were empty, and while I didn't mind, I certainly would rather have one a little further away from the teacher's desk. Nothing ever good comes from sitting close to the teacher. But for all I knew, he never sat at his desk other than in the morning.
I shrugged off that train of thought before walking toward the desk and sliding off the blue wonderbolt saddle bags that Fleetfoot got me as a back-to-school present. I took a seat and saw my name written on a little name tag on the upper left of the desk. I looked at the seat to my right and saw that I was sitting next to Misty Sky. Sadly it wasn't Sunny, but I did spot her coloring on a piece of paper at her desk towards the front of the room. I was going to have at least lunch, if not recess, to talk to her and get to know her better, so as long as whoever this Misty Sky is isn't a complete nut job, I should be fine.
I sat at my desk and fiddled with my hooves as students continued to flow in. One by one, the desks began to fill, and students took their seats. Then I saw a pale blue filly with a dark purple mane walk into the room and in my direction. She had a pair of purple glasses adoring her face, along with braces of a matching hue.
Mr. Mango waved her over, and they talked just out of earshot, though I noticed more than a few glances thrown my way. It was apparent he was saying something about me. Good things, I hope.
"Hi, I'm Misty Sky, but you can call me Misty," She greeted, holding out a hoof to which I bumped before she sat down. She began pulling out a few supplies and folders when I noticed that nearly everything was wonderbolt-themed. Even the pencils each had a wonderbolt on them, and I almost laughed a little when I saw a pencil with Fleetfoot and her goofy smile.
"So, I see you're a fan of the wonderbolts. Have you ever met them?"
"No, I've never met any of them," she said, sinking a little, "but I know one day I'll be a wonderbolt myself and get to meet them all!" She exclaimed, reinvigorated.
"Do you go to their shows often?"
"I can't go, the tickets are too expensive. But sometimes I stand close to the stadium when they're in Cloudsdale, and I hear the announcer and even see them in the sky sometimes."
Dang, I was a huge sports fan on Earth and knew the feeling of wanting to be a professional athlete. I soon realized I would never have the body to be a pro athlete, though I still followed the local sports teams. I could barely afford tickets to the Eagles or the Phillies, but when I could, it was extraordinary. Some of my fondest memories were of my parents taking me to a Phillies game and getting a ball from one of the players. While I would love to show her to Fleetfoot, Fleetfoot would most likely rather me not bring home every wonderbolts fan I meet.
While she seems nice, she is also a wild card. Of anything I have learned from my short time here, everyone seems way too nice. Like, way too nice. I have heard a few arguments between ponies and saw someone getting arrested. I was amazed when Fleetfoot took me around the city when I saw how clean and safe it was. Philly was a place where you risk stepping on a needle or getting mugged if you took a wrong turn.
“Umm, are you alright?" Misty asked, waving a hoof in front of my face.
"Oh, yeah, I'm alright, just lost in my thoughts," I responded, "what did you say?"
"Have you ever met the wonderbolts?"
"I've met a few of them, I was in the hospital, and they happened to be there visiting all the other kids there."
"Woah, I wish I was in the hospital," she said before hearing herself, "actually not really, but I wish I could meet them."
"Alright, class," Mr. Mango stated from the front of the room, "everyone take their seats and get out paper and something to write with."
"Hey," I nudged Misty, "can I borrow a pencil?" I asked; because of all the things Fleetfoot got me, there were no writing utensils in my bag.
“Sure, here you go!" She said, sliding the Fleetfoot pencil onto my desk. "Just make sure you give it back before the end of the day."
I laughed internally as I looked at the picture of Fleetfoot. She obviously didn't want to be there during this photoshoot, but she still looked funnier than all the others.
"All right, now let's get started on fractions!" He exclaimed, followed by a few groans. As much as I wanted this school to be different, it appeared to be the same as I remember. Yay.
I sat down with my lunch tray at the first open table I saw in the lunch room, the hay sandwich sliding apart. The lunch room was nothing special, with a food line at the back of the room with the rest filled with circular wood tables that could seat about six children.
The food looked just like school food too. While Fleetfoot was no chef, even her food looked significantly better than this. They still made my sandwich look depressing, which wasn't surprising. An orange is an orange, but the fact that they had chocolate milk weirded me out a bit. While I knew Fleetfoot had milk, it was almond milk. This tasted just like cow milk, and they said it was dairy. If ponies were sentient, were cows? What did-
My train of thought was interrupted by Misty sitting next to me, a similar-looking lunch sitting next to mine.
"Mr. Mango is sooo boring sometimes!" Misty stated, picking up her sandwich and taking a bite before pulling out a notebook filled with doodling.
"Tis the life of a school student," I responded, taking a bite of my sandwich. While I'm sure Mr. Mango is cool, math is math, and there is no way to make that exciting.
As I continued to munch on my sandwich, I thought about how basic everything would be in the following grade levels. If the system is the same here, as is everything else, I was in the second grade and had ten more years to go. Hopefully, I would be out of this place before then, but I knew deep down that there was a real possibility that I would be stuck here forever.
The lunch room continued to fill with the chatter of about a hundred other children enjoying their lunches. I drowned them all out except Misty until I felt someone shove Misty and me from behind.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" I said to the two colts that walked past. This caused them to stop and turn around, an evil smirk on their faces.
"I see the local wannabe has made a friend," the light gray colt uttered as he walked up and stuck his head between us. "I've never seen you around here before. You must be new."
“Yeah, so what."
"So, I'll let you off the hook this time, and out of the love of my own heart, I'll help you out a bit."
I raised an eyebrow; this help would not be very helpful.
"This little twerp here has got no hope of being a wonderbolt," he shoved himself onto the bench between us, knocking Misty's glasses off and into her food. "And you wouldn't want her to rub off on you, would you? End up a homeless pony living under a bridge, just like her?"
I was clenching my teeth so hard that they were about to shatter. I had no sympathy for those who prayed on the weak. My childhood friend had ended his own life because of bullying. These personalities had no place in my heart, and they never would.
"You better take that back right now…." I growled.
"Or what? I'm trying to keep you from ending up like her!" He took Misty's milk and dumped it all over her notebook, sitting on the table. "If anything, I'm doing you a favor, and you should be thank-"
He never finished that sentence as I headbutt him square in the forehead causing him to fall off the bench, slowly getting back up.
I got up, ready to beat the crap out of that little brat, until I remembered that he had another friend. I looked around a bit before glancing behind me, only to see a pair of legs making their way toward my face.